


1 New Message Received

by SweetSamOfMine (AudreeJo)



Series: Olivia [12]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angry Dean Winchester, Angry Sam Winchester, Angst, Brotherly Angst, Episode: s08e09 Citizen Fang, F/M, Female Friendship, Female Protagonist, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Gen, Implied/Referenced Sex, Post-Purgatory Dean, Protective Sam Winchester, Romantic Angst, Some Humor, Unresolved Sexual Tension, the text message
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 10:55:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4432847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AudreeJo/pseuds/SweetSamOfMine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liv receives an unexpected text from an old acquaintance that sets off a disastrous chain reaction she is unprepared to deal with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [UnabashedBird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnabashedBird/gifts).



> This one is for [UnabashedBird](http://archiveofourown.org/users/UnabashedBird/works), who [prompted me to write it](http://archiveofourown.org/comments/24825212). 
> 
> Special thanks to my incredible beta: [peanutbutterandbananasandwichs](http://archiveofourown.org/users/peanutbutterandbananasandwichs/works).
> 
> This one takes place a few week after [Can’t Stop](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3464768/chapters/7603697) and references it and [Come Be Buried](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1802887/chapters/3867154) a few times. 
> 
>  **Song pairing:** [All I Wanted](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W7nmB20qJv4) by Paramore

Liv shrieked, cowering away to the other side of the room. This kind of reaction could be expected of someone being cornered by a vengeful spirit or perhaps someone happening upon a temperamental pack of werewolves, but Liv wasn’t working a case. In fact, she and one of her closest friends, Victoria, had just closed a case and were back in their motel room packing up their stuff, far from the regular dangers of hunting down the supernatural.

 _“What is it?”_ Victoria shrieked back in reply, grabbing the closest weapon she could reach, one of her steel-toed boot.

Liv just pointed at the spot on the bed where she had dropped the clothes she had been folding and bolted across the room. Vic shuffled the clothes out of the way cautiously, boot held high at the ready, before relaxing and rolling her eyes.

 _“Christ,_ Liv. Seriously?” Vic brought the boot down hard on the bedspread. “It’s just a roach.” She peeled her victim from the heel of the boot with a tissue to dispose of it in the toilet.

“I _know_!” Liv squealed.

“You were literally crawling through a rats’ nest not five hours ago and you were fine.” The sound of the toilet flushing drowned out her laughter.

“I can’t help it!”

“You just helped me decapitate three vampires!”

Liv shuddered, ignoring her friend, scanning the bed to make sure there were no other crawly intruders. “Roaches are my thing,” she said. “I can’t explain it. Don’t you have a thing?”

“Nah, I think handling all manner of disgusting fuckwits from Hell cured me of having a thing.”

“Bragger,” Liv accused, playfully. They both went back to folding and packing.

“You’re something else, Liv.”

“Roaches are horrendous, okay…”

“But they won’t hurt you!”

“Better safe than sorry--”

_“Pfft!”_

“Hey, it’s not like I’m afraid of clowns or something…”

Laughter burst from Vic’s mouth. “Who the Hell is afraid of clowns?”.

Liv’s expression changed suddenly from jovial to strained. She cleared her throat. “No one,” she shrugged with forced chuckle. “Nobody would be afraid of clowns…”

Vic raised her eyebrow as Liv darted into the bathroom to pack up her toothbrush and shampoos. She wasn’t fully aware of why, but silences like this would fall from time to time when she was with Liv but because it was apparent Liv didn’t want these moments to last any longer than Victoria did, she’d usually push them past the pocket of awkwardness with small talk until they hit their rhythm again. Soon they were back on discussing the job they had just finished.

“It’s really been that long since you’ve worked a vamp case, Livvy?”

Liv stopped lacing up her boots to pause and think. “Yeah, I guess it’s been about a year or so since I last messed with any.”

Victoria whistled. “That’s a long time.”

Liv shrugged. “True, but I don’t think I was too rusty this time.”

“Nah, you were fine on this job. Hunting all those demons in between kept you sharp enough.”

Liv jerked her laces one more time, then straightened up. It was true that Liv had started gravitating towards a specific type of case once the Winchesters disappeared the year before, and she had never tried to hide it. Still, it was jarring when it came up. It most certainly wasn’t a time in her life she liked to be reminded of.

Vic noticed Liv tense up at the mention of her demon hunts and swiftly changed the subject to avoid another pocket of awkward silence Liv wouldn’t explain. She knew her friend wasn’t a mysterious person but she could also tell when there were things she didn’t want to talk about, and even though she had asked Liv multiple times about that year and how she had basically gone off the grid, there wasn’t much she could pull out of her. (Now she could add “Why did mentioning clowns make you sad” to her list of questions.)

What Vic did know was that about two years ago Liv had started working with the Winchesters periodically until she was pretty much exclusively with them on every job. Victoria had even been introduced to them once or twice in between a few cases, though she never spent any amount of time with them. Then suddenly, Liv was on her own and Vic and Liv’s other regular contacts rarely heard from her. Victoria thought Liv was purposefully isolating herself while on some strange mission seemingly against every demon she could find, but just because she worked alone didn’t mean rumors hadn’t spread about what she was up to. On the contrary, it alerted her regular network that something was wrong. It was unlike her to function this way.

Liv had come out of it, eventually, returning to her more regular pattern, but it took months. If Vic was being honest, she always thought working with the Winchesters was really risky. They had such a ridiculous reputation in hunting circles and it was impossible to figure out what stories about them were actually true or exaggerated to urban legend status. She had heard once that they had stopped the apocalypse, but then she heard that they had actually started the apocalypse. She wasn’t sure which to believe, if either, but she was certain that couldn’t _both_ be true.

Anyway, whatever happened between Liv and the Winchesters seemed to have left her wounded, guarded, and in need of a months-long revenge trail against any and all demons she could get her hands on. So those Winchesters had that working against them in Victoria’s mind, as well.  

 _Fuck those guys,_ Vic had thought.

But now Liv was back in contact with the Winchesters. Apparently they had returned to the face of the planet just as abruptly as they had disappeared, but she and the boys weren’t on the best of terms. (Victoria couldn’t help but feel relief for this. She didn’t trust them, and she didn’t like Liv interacting with them.)

It was all very mysterious and it caused Vic concern. There was no point in pushing the issue though, no point in making Liv tense by hinting at the last puzzling year, especially when it seemed Liv could even trigger herself. So the subject she changed.

“So now that we cleared this vamp nest up,” Victoria began, pulling her long brown hair up into a messy ponytail, “what’s next for you?”

“Was thinking of heading west,” Liv grinned, stuffing gum back into the side pocket of the beat up pack she always used on cross country road trips. “It’s been a while since I hit California and there’s always something going on out there.”

“Is that look an invitation?”

“Depends...”

“On?”

“On if you will accept it rather than reject it? _Please, please?”_

Victoria laughed. “I’ve got to follow up with a few guys sometime next week--”

Liv pouted and batted her lashes.

“--oh come on! That doesn’t work on me!” Vic rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “I can come as far as Vegas before I have to get a ride to take me North, hows that?”

“You mean Vegas, Nevada right? You’re not gonna ditch me when we hit Las Vegas, New Mexico in an hour, right?”

“Girl, if I’m in it till Vegas, I mean the _real_ Vegas.”

“This is acceptable,” Liv replied, downplaying her excitement.

“Great. Let’s get out of this gross motel. I’m starving.”

 ----

Liv knew Victoria wanted some answers and she couldn’t help but feel that she kind of owed her some after how MIA Liv had gone in the last year, but, dramatic as it might seem, she couldn’t bring herself to talk about it.. Not without emotionally spiraling and she did not want to go there again. It was a painful, dizzy place.

She was still trying to recover from that job she worked with Sam a few weeks before in Chicago and she wasn’t doing a great job of hiding it. She had left in the middle of the night and drove as far as her gas tank would allow before she let herself stop and clear her head. A few minutes later, she was back in the car, blazing a trail South, the tears she spilt flying off the roof of the car as she went. It was incredibly frustrating to want so badly to be with someone but panic the moment  you were. Until she could sort it all out, there was no way she should be around Sam Winchester...and especially not be in bed with him.

 _Whoops_. That ‘whoops’ was the gift that kept on giving. She’d meant to ease back in by joining the boys in Chicago. Instead she had cannonballed into the deep end. She had the urge to actually facepalm every time she thought about it. Why was she so weak, now? What happened to the girl who was so in control of herself?

Victoria didn’t know anything about the year of grief and anguish Liv had muddled through on her own. It had been the loneliest time of her life. All the awkward silences and abrupt subject changes were necessary for Liv, even though she felt bad for not sharing with her friend. The guilt was easier to manage than opening up the wounds left by the Winchesters. It still stung to know at some point during Liv’s worst year, Sam had met a girl named Amelia and had found some happiness for a time. It stung even worse to remember how Dean had used Amelia as ammunition to try to turn Liv against Sam just as she was finally reunited with them. But the worst of all was that she wasn’t even the target when Dean did that, but the tool. Just a tool for Dean to use to bust Sam’s chops, for whatever bitter reason.

Call it perseverance or her refusal to let Dean win ( _so... stubbornness_ ), but a part of her brain was still determined to get to a place where that couldn’t be used to hurt her ever again.

But she wasn’t there yet.

Like always, just brushing against these thoughts sent sick pangs through her stomach. It was too much, even though (if she were honest with herself) she understood why Sam had left her in Rufus’ cabin the week Dean had died. Even though (despite how it hurt) she understood why and how Sam had come to be with Amelia, and even though she and Dean had worked a job together (however awkwardly) since he tried to play his brother and her against one another. Those things were good, they were progressing, but they weren’t enough. Not yet. Tension and hurt lingered between all of them. It most likely always would.

Liv kept catching herself thinking, _I want to go back._ Despite how atrocious the story of her and the boys had become and how toxic their dynamic was now, she couldn’t help it. She cringed at the idea of telling Victoria the whole story, knowing exactly how awful it would sound to say out loud.

So even if she could talk about what had happened without it triggering some sort of meltdown, Liv still chose to keep it to herself. Unloading all of this on Victoria would surely incite Vic’s harsh honesty, and she certainly wasn’t ready for that. Liv could imagine watching Vic’s bright, blue eyes flashing, disapproving creases forming in her expression as some boulder in the form of a comment crushed Liv under its weight. And it would ring with truth that would make it that much harder for her to explain why she wanted to go back and….

_This is exactly why I need space, Jesus Christ!_

If time heals all wounds then Liv needed time, but time tends to move a lot faster when a person isn’t constantly thinking of of the things she needs to be healed from during that time. So she would try to stop and in the meantime, she’d willfully avoid things she didn’t want to hear from her friend.

 ----

Victoria took another swig of beer then slammed it on table in satisfaction.

“I love this restaurant!” she exclaimed. “It’s been too long since I was in this part of the country.”

Liv laughed and ate another french fry. “There’s a reason for that.”

“Okay, okay,” Vic replied playfully. “I made a few enemies that time we had to come through the Kiowa Grasslands--”

“Because you can’t do subtlety!”

“--But we had to be sure there was nothing hiding out there!”

“We were still trespassing!” Liv laughed.

Vic shrugged. “We were saving lives.”

“Yeah, something that’s a lot easier if we haven’t been arrested.” Liv’s phone pinged. She reached for it with a smile. “Oh my _God_ , Vic, look! It’s Ives!”

Vic blinked in amusement, nearly spitting some of her beer mid swallow. “Holy shit, what does he want?”

“No idea.” Liv opened the text thread. She hadn’t heard from him in months and he was always a source of amusement. She was so glad he decided to contact her while she and Vic were together.

“Whatever you do, don’t invite him to Vegas!”

 

 **Today** **11:32 AM**

 _Ives_ :  RU OK?

 

Liv raised her eyebrows in surprise.

“What does it say?” Victoria inquired, even more interested at seeing Liv’s reaction.

“He wants to know if I’m okay,” Liv responded, typing back.

 

**Today 11:33 AM**

_Liv_ :  Yeah, fine. Y?

 

“This is so weird. He has never cared how I’m doing. Even when we’re working a case and I could have died...”

“Maybe he’s drinking,” Vic giggled. “That always tends to get him emotional.”

“It’s barely mid-day. Even across the country, it would still be too early in the day for him to be _that_ drunk.” Liv shrugged, setting the phone aside and reaching for another fry, but her phone pinged again. She snatched it up.

 

**Today 11:36 AM**

_Ives_ :  IDK i’m getting calls from 1 of those guys u used to work w. He was asking about u

 _Ives_ : i wanted to b sure u r actually alive so if he checks & ur not he won’t kill me

 

Without another thought Liv was calling Ives while Victoria looked on in confusion. Now Vic was becoming seriously concerned.

 

_“Uh… hullo?”_

“What do you mean he’ll kill you? Which ‘he’ are you referring to?”

_“I don’t know, I can’t keep straight which is which. But it was one of those tall guys. The ones we met in San Fran that you…”_

“Winchesters?”

_“Yeah, them.”_

“Was it Sam?”

_“I dunno--”_

Liv made a sound that was something like a frustrated grumbled. “Was it a gruff voice or--”

_“He just sounded rushed.”_

“Why did he call you?”

_“He wanted to know if I’d been in contact with you, if you were okay--”_

“Why? Okay how?”

_“I don’t know, man! He just asked if I had heard from you lately, and if I knew where you were! I said I haven’t talked to you in a weeks but as far as I knew you were fine.”_

Liv felt her stomach clench up. What the hell was going on?

_“Olivia, you still there?”_

“Yeah, sorry… um. And you don’t know anything else?”

_“Could honestly not be more confused.”_

“And then he just hung up and that’s it?”

_“Yeah.”_

“Okay, sorry--”

_“Whatever. Stay alive long enough for him to be sure I wasn’t lying when I told him you were fine. I really don’t want either of those guys to call me ever again, to be honest.”_

Liv heard the call end but held the phone to her ear a bit longer as she sat slightly disturbed.

“What was that about?” Vic snapped her fingers in front of Liv’s eyes.

Liv shook her head. “I’m not sure. He said he got a call….”

Victoria lowered her sharp brows. “From who?”

“I think Sam called him asking about me, but I …?”

“Sam Winchester?”

They exchanged glances. Liv was fingering her phone.

“Are you going to call him?” It was an accusation.

Liv pulled her hand back like her phone had burned her. She had worked pretty hard to make sure she and Sam had had no contact since she burned rubber away from Chicago. “No.” She took a deep breath. “No, I cant. I mean. I shouldn’t.” Liv’s eyes searched Vic’s face. “Right?”

“You haven’t talked to this guy in what, three weeks? And you said you need space, or whatever?”

Liv nodded. It was something like that.

“But now he’s calling your friends to track you down without actually calling _you?”_

Liv hesitated but nodded again.

“Then, no,” Vic shrugged. “You definitely should not call him.”

 _Fuck these guys!_ Victoria’s original assessment of the Winchester floated back through her mind.

Liv nodded. It did sound pretty bad. _Okay_ , she thought. _Okay, I won’t call._ She didn’t want to think too hard about why Sam would be doing this because she wanted to keep herself from calling him. Victoria knew hardly anything about Sam Winchester, but what she had just described made it seem like calling him was the absolute worst decision, which actually made her feel relieved. Liv pushed her phone a little farther from her.

She took in a deep breath as the shock wore off. It couldn’t have been too important for Sam to call Ives, anyway, since he and Dean didn’t make a habit of going to Ives for much of anything. They always thought he was too unreliable. (And generally, that was an accurate appraisal.)

 ----

Victoria could tell that Liv was trying to settle back into the same rhythm they were in before the Ives text, but it was no use. She was distracted, her contributions to their conversation had been reduced to nods while saying “uh huh” and “totally,” and Vic was pretty sure she saw an actual fog fall across Liv’s eyes at one point. In fact, Vic worked in a completely nonsensical sentence that Liv seemed to agree with wholeheartedly.  

“Livvy,” she said.

“Totally,” Liv replied with another nod.

“No!” Vic snapped her fingers. “Liv, c’mon.”

Her friend sat up abruptly, shaking her head apologetically like she was just waking up. “I’m sorry, Vic.”

“Are you going to be okay or is this…?”

“No, yeah, I’m fine. I just--”

“Then snap out of it.” She cut Liv off to spare her having to side-step telling her what was really bothering her. “I’m not going to Vegas with this Olivia.” Judging from Liv’s crumpled brow, that was a little harsh. She’d meant for it to sound more playful than it came out. “Hey, why don’t I get the check,” she suggested in an attempt to compensate, “and we’ll head out. I’m full, anyway.”

Liv smiled her half-smile in concession. “Okay.”

As Victoria stood to head to the register, Liv pushed her phone absentmindedly even farther away across the table. Vic responded by grabbing it up and placing it in her pocket. It was the first time since the text Vic saw Liv’s laughter reach her eyes. After paying, Vic found that the eagerness to continue their road trip seemed to have returned in Liv’s expression and voice. She wasn’t even sitting in her chair but was standing by the exit, bouncing a little on the balls of her feet.

“Thanks for dinner!” she said, following Vic into the parking lot.

“Sure,” she responded. “Gotta keep my woman happy.”

“And that’s all it takes?”

“Historically? Yeah.”

“Well, shit, then I’m cheap!”

Victoria snickered to herself. Perhaps the day could still be salvaged. Just then, “Get Rhythm” by Johnny Cash started pouring from her back pocket.

“That’s Sid’s ringtone,” Liv said.

Without thinking, Vic pulled Liv’s phone out to see a picture of Liv’s grandfather flashing across the screen. It had been forever since she had gotten to see Sid so she swiped the screen to answer the phone on speaker, a coy grin forming across her face.

“Hello, old man!” she exclaimed.

The girls listened for a reply, but at first there was only a rustling and the sound of Sid’s heavy breathing.

“Sid?” Victoria called through the receiver.

More of the same. Vic and Liv hovered close over the screen.  

 _“‘Livia?”_ came Sid’s raspy voice.

“Grandpa, hey!” Liv reclaimed her phone, bringing it right up to her mouth.

_“‘Livia?”_

“It’s me. Are you--?”

_“Who was that other voice, there?”_

“Victoria James, Grandpa,” Liv answer, confused. “Remember her?”

A pause. _“Oh, yes, hon! Of course I do.”_

“Hey, Sid,” Vic said feebly. She shrugged apologetically at Liv. She hadn’t meant to scare him but he was clearly upset about something.

“What’s wrong, Grandpa?” Liv continued.

_“I’m fine, girly, what about you?”_

“Me?” The girls exchanged looks, again. “I’m just fine, Grandpa.”

She heard him sigh.

“Grandpa, will you tell me what’s the matter?”

_“Nothing, darlin’. Just callin’ to check on you, that’s all.”_

Liv raised her eyebrow. Even Vic knew random phone calls of concern weren’t his style. And so soon after Ives had texted…  “You sound pretty upset. You sure something didn’t make you feel worried?”

Sid hesitated. _“Uh, a telephone call I got got me worryin’.”_

Liv’s voice grew dangerous. “What call? Who called you?”

_“Now don’t be angry, he sounded like he was worried for you--”_

“Grandpa, who was it and what did he say?”

Sid hesitated again. He was clearly trying to avoid exactly this. “ _It was that tall boy you used to bring around here. Sam.”_ Vic watched Olivia start pacing back and forth as Sid went on. _“He was real nice, sounded like he was trying to be calm maybe to keep from getting me riled up, but I could tell. He kept asking questions about you, got me thinking you might be missing or something.”_

Every muscle in Liv’s face hardened as she tried to formulate a reply to her grandfather that wouldn’t sound like this had made her angry. “I have no idea why he called you like that,” she said, stiffly, “but I’m fine. I’m so sorry he scared you!”

Sid tried to cover the shake in his voice with cheer. _“No harm done, hon, I’ll be alright. Just glad to hear your voice!”_

As the call ended, Liv turned to Victoria with an expression that told her they were not headed for Vegas today. Vic didn’t falter, though she did feel disappointment bubble up within her. She could see this was bigger than just some weird ex-boyfriend drama.

“I hate to do this--” Liv began.

Vic raised her hand to stop her. “No, don’t worry about it.”

“--I should go be with him for a bit.”

“Definitely.”

“He sounded really shaken, I think it would be good for him to see me.”

“That’s a good idea.” Vic tried to sound encouraging. “You’re only a few hours away.” An angry tear threatened to creep out of her friend’s eye. She didn’t have to be to Washington for another week and she didn’t want to think what a three hour drive alone would be like for Liv at this point. “And hey,” Vic offered. “I’ll come if you want.”

Genuine gratitude washed away Liv’s harsh expression. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I haven’t visited Sid in over a year. It’ll be nice to--”

Vic was cut off by a tight hug. “Thank you.”

“It’s whatever.” Victoria patted Liv a little awkwardly on the back.. As Liv pulled away, with a small, fondly apologetic, smile, Vic swiftly tried to change the subject. “Your grandpa still make that potato-meat-casserole thing?”

Liv laughed, dabbing the corner of her left eye. “He does.”

“Then, yeah, we’re good.”

 ----

Three hours later, Liv was clanking around Grandpa Sid’s kitchen, trying to help him get dinner started while Victoria drank watered-down ice tea from an aluminum cup. If she hadn’t heard the strain in Sid’s voice earlier that day, she would have never imagined he had ever been unhappy based on the way he was moving. He was so excited Liv came home unexpectedly, and even more so that she had brought a guest. He wouldn’t allow Vic to lift a finger to help, too, which was probably for the best because her cooking skills stopped at stirring.

“Ya need anything more, darlin’?” Sid called over his shoulder as he chopped tomatoes.

“No, really,” Vic replied for the fourth time, loud enough for him to hear. “I’m just fine with this tea.” She shot an amused look at Liv. Victoria didn’t really care for tea but Sid wouldn’t allow her to sit without something to drink.

“Hand me that there-- no, that bigger one there.” Sid pointed to some sort of magical kitchen utensil Victoria didn’t recognize. Liv stopped washing potatoes to comply. “Thank ya, dear.”

The whole way to her grandfather’s place Liv had been on the brink of calling Sam to ask _“What the hell?!”_ Sam had scared Sid half to death trying to track her down but he couldn’t just call her? _What the hell!_ But every time she reached for the phone, she became too angry to follow through and would toss it back in the cup holder next to the emergency brake. Luckily Vic, who was much more insightful and observant than Liv remembered, noticed this internal struggle and moved Liv’s phone from the middle console to take the option away. Then she turned the music up for the rest of the drive and things went much more smoothly from then on.

Now that they were in Dalhart, all the strain and tension Liv had worn the entire drive was turned into just the opposite. Sid wasn’t Vic’s grandfather, but it made her feel like she had one when she watched Liv and Sid together. Plus, their presence seemed to have given Sid new energy, like he was a totally different person from the wheezy old man who called them a few hours before. Victoria started thinking maybe a homecooked meal and some familial company was just what they needed, rather than a few quick days in Vegas.

With the sound of water running in the sink over the potatoes Liv was scrubbing and the _chop chop chop_ of Sid arranging veggies on his cutting board, they almost didn’t hear the rumble of a noisy truck engine as it approached the long dirt road to the house. It took Mable, Sid’s ten year old marble-colored mutt, barking on the front porch for them to notice it. Liv peered out the window over the sink, squinting to try to make out who it was. She didn’t recognize the beat-up pick up. For a second she thought it might be someone Sid knew from town, but as the truck tore up the winding driveway towards the house, leaving a trail of dust in the air behind it, the figure in the front seat became all-too familiar.

Victoria heard the clunk of two potatoes and a scrub brush fall into the sink as she glanced up to see a blur that was Liv run for the front door. The screen slammed behind Liv before Vic could even stand up to follow her. She leapt out onto the porch. The truck came to a halt in the grass a few yards away under a tree, as though it had parked there before. Liv met it like lightning. Vic had only ever seen her move that fast on a job. She knew instantly who was going to climb out of the driver’s side door.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

“What the _hell_ are you doing!” Liv yelled over the truck’s engine.

Sam barely put the truck in park before he flung his door open and jumped out, his face completely white with fright. He didn’t waste time closing it. He could see as plain as anyone watching that Liv was in a rage, but he came right up to her without hesitation. Relief washed over him as he met her, clutching her shoulders like he was trying to steady himself and make sure she was real all at once. One of his hands came up and cupped her face, slender fingers tracing her features as if to convince himself it was really her standing in front of him.

All the parts of the _whoops_ from Chicago that didn’t make Liv want to facepalm suddenly jumped into her head at his touch. She nearly fell forward into his chest and let him catch her in the embrace he clearly craved, but she was able to stop herself before this reflex kicked in, even though memories of sharp intakes of breath and skin on skin jabbed at her brain. Her own hand came up to cover his on her cheek, her confused eyes searching his pale face. His sudden presence and proximity came like a fog cast over her, and for a second how angry she was about the whole situation seemed to be blotted out by his hands on her body, the gold flecks in his green eyes staring down at her, and how she felt consumed under his shadow when he stood over her like he was.

She threw Sam’s hands, rather abruptly, off of her, overcompensating perhaps, as she chastised herself for yet another moment of weakness.

“What is going on!” she exploded, voice slightly more shrill than she expected.

Sam’s wide eyes turned slightly manic. _“Why aren’t you answering your phone?”_ His voice was loud and a little unhinged. It startled and angered her.

“I’ve _been_ answering my phone!” Liv scoffed. “Sid called me, terrified that something had happened to me because of you!”

Sam looked horribly confused. “I’ve been calling you for the last _ten hours!_ ” He paused as if waiting for an explanation. “I thought you were dead!”

“What? Why would you think--”

Sam held up his phone to show a distressed text labeled as being sent from her phone. Her eyes widened as her confusion grew. She took his phone from his shaking hand and examined the text, reading it over and over again. _“Sam I need ur help! Come quick!”_ In between each read, she’d glance up at Sam. He was completely strung out, like he may have been driving through the night and possibly running strictly on terror and coffee. Pity washed over her.

“I didn’t send this,” she told him. “I didn’t--” She started clicking back through her own phone. “No, Sam. No one sent this to you from my phone.” She held up her screen to prove it. The last text between she and him was Sam texting her the address to their hotel in Chicago.

Sam moved both hands over his face and back up through his hair, exhaling in exasperation. He seemed like he might burst into tears for a second but as the color returned to his face she could see that it was rage that flushed his cheeks. He snatched both the phones from her and compared the numbers, then pressed his mouth into a hard line. He handed the phones back to her, each on their respective phone book screens, scrolled to her contact info.

“You’ve got the wrong number programmed as mine…” She trailed off. Sam was pacing back and forth in front of her, nodding his head silently at her discovery. Liv watched him with her brow knit up in concern.

“Dean,” Sam growled, nearly under his breath. “He switched your number out of my phone.”

“What!”

“He switched your number out!” he half snapped, then caught himself. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath to steady his anger. “I haven’t been calling you for the last ten hours, I’ve been calling one of our burner phones.” He swore.

“Why would he do that?”

“Long story.”

Liv started to feel sick. “And that’s why you called my friends? And Sid?”

Sam stopped pacing to turn to her with his laser stare. “If your friends were contacting you about this, why didn’t you call me?” His tone was harsh but it rang with a twinge of pleading. He was trying but failing to reign himself in. Sleep deprivation and stress were ruling him.

“I...I--” She didn’t have a good reason. Her only answers were _‘Because I was afraid I’d seem weak’_ or _‘Because I’m super prideful and you made me mad.’_ They both seemed even worse reasons than before. “I don’t know, Sam. I didn’t know what to think! You were calling everyone but me, I--” She dropped her shoulders in surrender. _What a fucking mess._ “But I’m fine.” She softened her voice, lowering it as she stepped closer to him. “I’m alive, as is Sid even though you nearly gave him a heart attack.”

Sam scrunched his face into a guilty expression. “Sid was my absolute last resort, Liv, I swear.” He stepped towards her. “I didn’t want to call him unless I just had no other way of knowing if--” He shook the thought out of his head. “And I tried not to make it sound like something was wrong on the phone.”

His face was as beautiful as always, but Liv felt like she could almost see through his skin, he was so pale. He clearly hadn’t slept or eaten recently, and now he was shaking from anger. She started to wonder how much longer he had before he crashed completely.

“I was hours into my drive here when I called him,” Sam continued. “I figured if I hadn’t tracked you down by the time I got here, I could at least break the news to Sid in person that you might be in danger.”

“Where were you when you got this text?”

He rolled his eyes and let out a humourless chuckle, the scary way he does when he’s at his most dangerous. “Carencro.” Liv’s hand came up over her mouth in surprise. He really hadn’t eaten or slept. Carencro was far. Really far. “I got it and just took off, calling you as I went, hoping to get a response. I knew there was no way I could pin-point your location, so all I had was this text and Dalhart to start. Guess Dean knew that would keep me busy.” He gripped the phone in his hand so tight Liv thought it might shatter. “So here I am.”

 “I should have called you,” she admitted, weakly, reaching for the wrist of the hand that held his phone. “I’m sorry. I knew something was up and I just… I should have. I’m really sorry.”

At her touch his tense body seemed to soften, as did the angry lines in his face. For a second there was just relief. “It’s not your fault,” he said softly. His brow wrinkled. “Don’t be sorry.”

“No,” she protested. Her hand ached to brush the hair away from his cheek. “Depending on when he changed the number, he was counting on me not calling you. Otherwise, we would have figured this out before you went through all this....”

The thought turned her stomach. Once again Dean was using her as a tool to hurt Sam. He was counting on their estrangement and he knew her well enough to bank on her pride. She had played right into his hands. Now there wasn’t a reason she could think of that was good enough to have kept her from at least texting him in between the last time she had seen Sam and now.

Sam stood silently, gazing down sadly with no reply. He knew she was right. Dean had made fools of them both. No amount of empty reassurance he could muster would change that.

Liv finally gave into her twitching fingers and tugged him towards her by his wrist and at this permission Sam wrapped her up in a tight hug. He locked her in an iron grip as though his mind had been playing through all the possible ways she could have met her end as he drove to find her. Knowing Sam, that’s probably exactly what he had been doing the entire time he was trying to get ahold of her. He almost held her too tight, but maybe the tighter he grasped her, the less he felt panic, dread, and terror. Liv pressed her cheek against his chest and she stayed there long enough to feel his heart rate start to normalize, trying to sooth him with her hands rubbing his back. He sighed once or twice into her hair.

That text had caused an enormous mess. It had lead her away from her plans with Vic and the next case they wanted to work, it had gotten her grandfather involved, and --surprise!--it had put her in a position to have to combat how utterly weak she was when it came to being around Sam. Dean’s text had forced the two of them back together long before she was ready, long before she would approve of herself being in this kind of interaction with him. But, at the same time, none of it was Sam’s fault and after what he had just been put through, Liv needed to let him hug her.

“C’mon,” she said, pulling away before she let herself breathe him in. “You need to eat.”

“I’m not really hungry.”

She cocked her eyebrow at him. “You look like hell, Sam. You need to eat something.”

“No, Liv, I didn’t come out here to impose.” He glanced at the porch, noticing for the first time that Sid and Victoria were hovering at the porch. No amount of geniality from Sid could balance out Victoria’s unwelcoming stare. “If there is no emergency, I should go.”

Liv glanced toward the porch, then. Sid looked pleasantly concerned, but all she could do was helplessly plead with her eyes for Vic to be cool. At the gesture, she could see her friend heave a sigh of disapproval.

“I’m gonna apologize to Sid,” Sam declared, starting towards the house. “Then I’ll find a hotel in town.”

“Sam--” Liv followed close behind him.

“And I’ll eat something,” he assured her without stopping. “I promise.”

\-----  


The flickery overhead light buzzed in Sid’s kitchen since the sun started to set. It was harsh and yellow but somehow it still felt cozy and welcoming. More food than was necessary steamed out of each of their respective pans and condensation made rings around the bottom of each of their glasses. Liv handed the plate of rolls to Vic as it made its way around the table.   

“I told you, son, my tomatoes are the best around,” Sid bragged, taking another bite of the colorful salad made entirely of things he grew in his garden, himself.

Sam grinned. “Yes sir, you did. And you’re right.” He had this impressive ability to speak loud enough for Sid to hear without it sounding like he was shouting. He took another bite of his own salad.

Liv looked on, propping her cheek up on her elbow with an unintended smile. She didn’t have to convince Sam to stay and eat. Sid did all the work for her. When Sam came up the front steps to shake Sid’s hand, he waved away Sam’s heartfelt apology about what Sid called merely a misunderstanding, as if hardly anything had happened, refusing to accept any of Sam’s reasons for needing to leave. There was plenty of food and nothing Sam was going to find in town would measure up to what was already brewing inside, he had assured him. This took the pressure and blame off of Liv for Sam’s presence at dinner. Liv could feel Victoria watching them interact like she was burning a hole through them, but at least Liv hadn’t been the one to make him stay. She couldn’t help that she was now enjoying seeing him and her grandpa talk about vegetables.

The only thing Sid loved more than cooking was company, someone to tell his stories to, even if they had heard most of them before. Since Sid hadn’t seen Vic or Sam in quite some time, he used it as an excuse to unload even the most classic Sid stories, his favorite being when he filled up Bonnie and Clyde’s gas tank without realizing who they were. Sid always added at the end of that one, “They were a lovely couple. The best tippers I ever had!” And Liv would wait for that line to laugh because she knew it was coming. It seemed Sam had heard that one a few times before because he waited, too.

Victoria wasn’t really sure how to take this dynamic. She sat and listened to Sid tell stories, laughed at the appropriate times, answered questions he asked her about what she had been up to lately (not killing monsters, to those not in the life, she was an entrepreneur who was able to travel while working ), and pretty thoroughly enjoyed herself the whole time. However, she wasn’t certain how she felt about Sam Winchester. Or the events that lead him to showing up at the house. Or the way Liv, Sid, and Sam seemed to fall right back into a pattern as if nothing about this day was weird or slightly disturbing.

Sid most likely knew things about Sam that Vic didn’t which helped him give him the benefit of the doubt, Vic would probably admit that. But Vic was also a skeptical person. Maybe Sid had seen Sam and Liv together at happier times but the most prominent reference to Sam Victoria had was the pain and sadness that looked so foreign on her friend. As the time for cobbler and coffee approached, she was still unconvinced Sam deserved her endorsement.

Sid leaned back in his chair with his hand on his large tummy. “It’s been a long time since I got to make a meal like this,” he said. “And ‘Livia tries but she doesn’t enjoy my vegetables. I’m glad you turned up here again, Sam. What’s been keeping you and that mop of hair away, anyway?”

Vic raised her eyebrow at Sam like a challenge.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably.

“Grandpa, Sam has just been really busy--”

“That family business? With your brother?”

“Uh, yeah,” Sam replied. “Something like that.”

Vic rolled her eyes. It made Sam’s stomach clench up. He would concede that Victoria had no reason to like him --most days he struggled with that, too-- but that last bit didn’t sit well with him. Maybe if he tried to be a little more transparent she’d at least lay off with the looks and snide sighs in between every exchange.

“I mean,” Sam went on. “It’s been a rough year. I made some mistakes. Sometimes it takes time to figure it out so…”

“Everybody mucks up from time to time,” Sid explained. “Lord knows, I’ve done it. What matters is learning from your mistakes.” They all nodded. It was uncomfortable, but thankfully Sid didn’t know how to feel that emotion, so he went on. “And having people around that care about you. You kids take care of each other, it’s so good to see,” Sid beamed around the table. “This one comes all this way with my girl to check on me, this one comes all the way out here to check on my girl. If you have to be out there on your own, Livvy, it sure does your grandpa good to know you got friends like this.”

Victoria’s face soften for the first time since dinner had begun. She couldn’t shake her skepticism of Sam but she also couldn’t deny how much he clearly cared for Liv. She had watched him shoot out of that truck like a gun and grab Liv in his arms like the sight of her was the only thing keeping him alive. And it may have been since he had driven thirteen hours straight from Louisiana, only stopping for gas, without even knowing if that’s where she’d be. The color in his cheeks had returned throughout dinner and it was definitely because he was finally eating something, but Vic figured it probably also had a lot to do with him sitting next to her friend, laughing, and knowing she was just fine.

“Don’t get sappy, old man,” Liv teased.

“Have it your own way!” Sid shot back, standing up from the table.“C’mon, dear, help me take these leftovers out to the pigs.”

Liv jumped up to accompany Sid towards the back door.

“I can help--” Sam started, standing to follow.

“No, son, she knows how I like it done. I don’t need ya…” He trailed off through the house, mumbling as he went about why feeding the pigs had to be just a certain way while Liv mimed a silent “No really, don’t come” to Sam behind his back.

This left Sam to stiffly sink back into his seat across from a blinking Victoria. Sam raised his eyebrows as if preparing his expression to say something, but no words came out. He only exhaled a short breath before diverting his eyes to the table top.

“So,” Vic began, flatly. “You afraid of clowns?”

“What?” Sam asked in an octave a bit higher than the usual. “No.. why would you…?”

Vic narrowed her eyes at him.

“I mean, I don’t know anyone who _likes_ clowns, you know? So…” He crossed his arms and shrugged clumsily. “Do you?”

Victoria raised her own brows to think. She couldn’t think of anyone she knew who liked clowns. “I guess not,” she conceded.

 _Touche_.

The awkward silence that followed was cut by the buzz of Sam’s cell phone. It caused him to jump a little but it wasn’t until he saw who was calling that his demeanor returned to the same tense bitterness Vic had witnessed earlier that day.

“Sorry, I’ve gotta take this.” He rose from the table.

“Your brother?”

Sam gave a curt nod.

“After what he pulled,” she said, pushing her chair away from the table, “I don’t think I’d be taking _any_ of his calls.”

Sam gave a gentler nod, one that showed he understood and may even agree with her, but still he pushed through the screen door and out onto the front porch, sliding the phone screen to answer.

For the first time since Sam arrived, Victoria felt bad for the guy, but she couldn’t put her finger on why.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Liv returned to the kitchen to find Victoria at the sink, washing dishes. She felt it was wrong to leave Vic and Sam alone for too long and had rushed back as soon as she emptied her leftovers into the pen. Sid was still out back, taking his sweet time.

“Where’s Sam?” she asked, helping Vic to clear off the table and submerge the rest of the dirty dishes in warm water. She secretly hoped there hadn’t been some kind of snark off that sent them in opposite directions, but before Vic could point to the front door, she heard Sam’s voice in sharp tones through the screen.

“I told him he shouldn’t answer.”

“So it’s Dean?”

Vic nodded. Liv started using a beat up, old towel to dry and put the dishes away. For a bit, there was only the sound of glassware clanking, the sloshing of water, and the muffled modulation of Sam’s side of the conversation from the porch. They could only make out every third or fourth word, then started feeling a little guilty for trying to eavesdrop.

“So. Sam,” Vic began, paying particularly close attention to the whisk she was cleaning. “This is the guy that …?”

“Yeah,” Liv muttered.

Vic glanced sideways at her. “Just be careful, Olivia.”

“I’m trying.”

Vic exhaled in her disapproving way.

“He’s a good man, Victoria.” It was as harsh as a whisper can be.

“I didn’t say he wasn’t!” Vic’s sudsy hand was on her hip.

“You don’t have to.” She waved the towel at her to indicate her body language.

“Okay, yes I haven’t been _friendly_ ,” she admitted. “And he doesn’t seem that bad in person. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t still be careful.”

“What does that even mean?“ She searched her friend’s face. “Does it mean shutting him out or forcing myself to ignore him? Closing off any possibility that we could possibly move past...” She trailed off.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, what you two need to move past. You won’t tell me about it. But I _do_ know that last year you went off the grid for months for God knows why after you two split up.”

“Sometimes people go through shit,” Liv growled. “Some people take time away. Some people don’t know how to stay above water 100% of the time, like you.”

Vic sidestepped that jab. She was kind of overstepping her usual jurisdiction anyway, so perhaps she deserved it. “I don’t want to see you end up back there, that’s all.”

“I’m not headed back there!”

“I watched you at dinner, Liv!” Pointing toward the empty dinner table flung dish soap across the floor. “That wasn’t a cautious person! That was a girl who looked like she would settle down and pop out a few babies _tomorrow_ if he asked you to.”

Liv rolled her eyes. “He would never ask me to.”

“That’s not the point!”

“And, just as a sidenote: there’s nothing wrong with looking at someone like that just because the idea scares the hell out of you.”

“That’s not the point either!”

“Quit projecting onto me and calling it advice.”

_“Liv!”_

She stared wordlessly and unblinkingly back at Victoria, a twinge of guilt gnawing at her expression.

“Look. I am on your side.” Victoria took in a deep breath. “You’ve always been more willing to put yourself out there than I am. It’s not that I look down on that, I just hate to see you get hurt again because of it. When you’re so open to good things you’re just as open to the bad.”

“I know that,” Liv muttered.  

“All I meant when I brought this up was just… make decisions you know you can live with. And if you aren’t sure about what those choices are yet, then it’s okay to just chill.”

“I’m not ever going to settle down and have a litter of Winchesters. You can relax.”

A surprised chuckle escaped Vic’s mouth. “You are the one who told me that you need space,” she said. “Just don’t let a freak circumstance like this convince you that you don’t if you actually still do.”

Liv picked another dish out of the sink and started drying it off and Vic followed suit. Soon they fell back to eavesdropping on Sam as sloshing and clanking were reignited until all the dishes were done and Sid had returned, smelling of cigar smoke, to sit with the girls and his tea.

“It’s been quiet on the porch for a while now,” he said, inclining his head towards the front door.

Without a word Liv rose from the table and stepped out onto the porch. Sam was sitting on the front steps with Mable, staring up at the stars. Ever so often he toss a stick for her to return to him. Hearing Liv come out, he glanced over his shoulder then scooted aside making room for her. She joined him and for a second they just looked up at the sky.

“Are you okay?” Liv asked.

“I’ve been worse.”

She hit him lightly on the shoulder. “C’mon, Sam. What the hell is going on? Did he explain?”

Sam took in a deep breath. “Nothing that I didn’t already figure out for myself.”

“It was a pretty succinct way for him to strike at us both, I guess.”

“Yup.” Sam was the only person Liv knew who could mix a tone of bitterness with a tone of guilt. He threw the stick and Mable chased after it.

The first thing Dean had lashed out at them about when they were all three finally in the same place was how neither of them had tried to fish him out of Purgatory. It’s why Dean’s initial reaction to seeing Liv again was to immediately throw a bomb into her and Sam’s relationship. So it wasn’t a stretch for her to believe that the text was just another way to punish them both, for something he could not hear reason on, for something he could not move past.

“We’ve been over this with him, though,” she said. “We couldn’t have read his mind, Sam. I’d want to be left in peace, had it been me. We couldn’t have guessed what he wanted us to do.”  

“I thought I _was_ doing what he wanted,” Sam admitted. “We made a pact. He said leaving him alone was what he wanted, what we wanted for each other the next time one of us ... I don’t know. Maybe that was stupid--” Mable dropped the stick against Sam's knee. 

“Wait.” Liv nudged him to square up in front of him. “You mean you and him actually discussed this before?”

Sam nodded. “A few years ago.” He tossed the stick again.

“But he’s still holding you responsible for ... ?”

Sam’s stare turned sad.

“For what exactly? For following through with it?”

Sam had no answer. Mable returned the stick and Sam patted her around the collar. 

“Okay, so when he called, did he apologize for the text?”

“Hah, no. That’s not really Dean’s style.”

Liv shook her head. “Did he at least sound like he felt bad?”

“Actually he said he made the right call.”

Liv’s jaw hung open in surprise. If she had been less disgusted she might of uttered a few angry swear words. “S-- so..?” she sputtered. “He doesn’t care that because of his text message, you sped across two states for twelve hours, without eating or sleeping? He doesn’t care that you thought I might be dead? That Sid thought I might be dead?” She wanted to believe that Dean would have at least caught a conscience once he heard how much trouble it had caused, even if initially setting it all up was purely out of spite.

Sam turned to her apologetically. It made her wince. She wasn’t sure how he managed to take on blame in even situations like this. She held up her hand to stop him from apologizing. “Sam. What 'right call' did he make? Why did he do this?”

Sam straightened up like it was about to take a lot out of him to recount it. “Dean hasn’t been right since he got back from Purgatory. I thought it was just how rough things had been there, that it made paranoid, and he lost Cas so there was survivor’s guilt, possibly, too. But I found out not long ago how he ... got back here.”

“Back here. Like alive?”

“Yeah,” he said. “It’s complicated, but when he came back, he came back with a vampire. Named Benny. He’s been in contact with him this entire time and he’s been lying about it.”

Liv’s eyes narrowed. It didn’t sound like the Dean she knew to throw in with a vampire. “Why..?” She wasn’t sure what to ask. “Why did he keep it a secret?”

Sam shrugged. “Maybe he didn’t trust me. He’s always had a hard time with that.” His voice was monotone but she knew Sam well enough to tell know when it cost him to say something. “Anyway, we ended up in Louisiana working a case and all the evidence pointed to Benny at the center. Pretty much all of it. But Dean would not listen. He just told me over and over that it wasn’t Benny.”

“But why? What reason did he give you to trust this Benny guy?”

“He didn’t really give any. Dean just wanted me to take his word on this guy, but after how eradict Dean was acting I couldn’t go off just that. He asked for some time to deal with Benny himself and I gave it, but even then, he couldn’t bring anything back besides just his word. When it came down to it, it seemed that Dean was too close to it. People were dying. And we had killed for a lot less to go on in the past.”

“So what happened?”

“In Dean’s words? I ‘wouldn’t lay off’ so he used ‘Plan B’ to get me out of town.”

_“Jesus Christ!”_

“Said he knew it was the only way to get me off Benny’s back.”

Liv wasn’t sure what she had hoped Dean would have told Sam on the phone to make the text message trick seem less awful, but this was far from whatever it was. It really just made everything seem a lot worse. A wave of nausea washed over her. She was so tired of being a weapon with which Dean could bludgeon Sam. “How far in advance did he plan this?”

Sam wiped his hand over his face and shook his head.

“That’s like… emotional terrorism.”

Sam made a sound that could have been interpreted as the beginning of a bitter laugh, but Liv couldn’t find any humor about it. Maybe she just wasn’t as used to this kind of bullshit as Sam --a thought that, upon further consideration, made her even more upset -- but there was no laughter in her, not even bitter laughter. She bolted up off the steps with a groan of frustration.

The night air was thick and there was only one light on across the large yard at the fence by the cattle-guard, so Liv was only illuminated by the half moon, but Sam could still see her quite well, and she was pacing the way she used to when she’d get agitated about Dean.

“I…” she started. “I honestly don’t think--”

“Livvy--”

“--I couldn’t be more angry!”

“I’m so sorry--”

“--No!” she bellowed. “That’s not fair! You shouldn’t have to be sorry. None of this is your fault!”

He watched her continue to pace.

“And I feel bad because he used me to hurt you, too, but I shouldn’t have to feel sorry either!” She took a break from pacing angrily to look skyward and shake her head. “I mean, I get that Dean is fucked up since Purgatory but there’s no reason to play on someone else’s weakness. And just so you would do what he wanted you to do?” Her expression was of shock as though she was rediscovering that this had happened. “Christ! You _lost. Dean. last. year!_ He has to know how awful that was for you…” She looked to Sam for confirmation. He gave her none. She went on anyway. “...so to pretend it could be happening to someone else in your life. That’s just cruel!” The more she thought about it, the more hurt she became. Suddenly it felt like the entire terrible day and Dean’s betrayal was hitting her all at once. Dean had loved her once. She liked to believe the friend she used to know would have never have treated her in this way. Her senses were becoming overwhelmed and before she knew it, she felt a stinging sensation in her eyes. “I swear to God, does he actually believe he is the only person to have suffered last year?”

Sam heard it in her voice that she was nearing her breaking point. He scooted to the very edge of the top step and grabbed her hand, pulling her to stand facing him as he sat before her. He suppressed his instinct to say sorry again. That would only upset her. She was right, after all, it’s not like he created this situation and even though he’d been over and over it in his head, he couldn’t think of a way he could have avoided it either. So he just tugged her closer to him and squeezed her hand while sitting on the front step of her grandfather’s porch with her grandfather’s dog. He hoped it could be enough to bring her back around to the smile he saw at dinner, or something like it.

She squeezed his hand back, lacing their fingers together as she reclaimed her seat next to him. She leaned her cheek on his shoulder, hoping he didn’t mind a tear or two being caught in the fabric of his shirt. She felt the soft touch of his head resting on hers and for a sweet, quiet moment they just sat.

“I’m going to have to get going soon,” Sam whispered.

“What?” Liv replied, lifting her head. “You don’t have to.” Yellow light from the living room came through the screen door, casting little shadows across the porch.

“I need sleep,” he said, wiping a stray tear from her cheek with his thumb. “There’s a motel about ten minutes up the road.”

“No, you should stay here tonight. Sid loves you, he won’t mind. There’s room.” She squeezed his hand again and tugged on his shoulder. She batted her lashes and pouted as best she could without giggling. “Mable will be happy if you stay.” Sam laughed, genuinely this time, and patted the dog to his other side. Liv settled her head back on his shoulder.

“Okay,” he conceded, resting his head back against hers. “If it makes Mable happy.” She felt him say this with his lips against her hair but couldn’t be sure if he had kissed her or not.

\------

As Liv predicted, Sid wouldn’t hear of Sam leaving to stay at ‘some ratty hell-hole’ when he could sleep comfortably --however cramped-- right there in Sid’s living room. He unloaded about five quilts Liv’s grandmother had made and stacked them on the sofa next to three different sized pillows.

“You sure that’s enough for you there?” Sid inquired.

“Looks good,” Sam chuckled. “I think I’ll be fine.” There was no way he’d ever need to use five blankets but he didn’t question it. Sid continued to fuss over the sofa, fluffing the cushions and patting out lumps.

“Grandpa, I think Sam’s good,” said Liv trying to derail Sid so Sam could be left in peace.

“Alrighty, ‘night ‘night then,” Sid said, waving as he headed for Liv’s old room. “I got to make sure Victoria’s got a nice place to lay down anyway.” Liv followed him out of the room but not before turning to mouth ‘goodnight’ to Sam herself. Sam settled in for the night, even though the sofa was a little too short for how tall he was. Luckily that worked out pretty well for Mable who took full advantage of the fact that Sam had to bend his knees to fit. She curled up in the space between his legs and the back cushions and never slept better.

After Sid fussed over the pallet of quilts he made for Victoria on the floor of Liv’s room and was reassured a few times that Vic would be perfectly comfortable he said his goodnights to them, too.  But before Sid could escape down the hall, Liv caught him at her door. “Thanks for letting all of us barge in on you like this,” she whispered.

“Oh it’s nothin, sweetheart,” he whispered back. “I love company.”

“I’m glad.” She hugged him. “‘Night, I love you.”

“I love you, too. Oh and honey.” He pulled her away to look into her eyes. She could see her own reflection in his shiny glasses. “I don’t know what’s going on between that boy and you, it’s been a long time since you’ve brought him out here--”

“Uh--”

“--but I just gotta tell you that a man doesn’t drive across two states and raise hell for nothin’. I’ve seen a lot in my day, I’m old.”

Liv chuckled nervously.

“I know people change and grow apart so don’t take this as me pressurin’ you, and if he did something bad I don’t know about then to Hell with him. You keep on stayin’ away from him. But I like to think I know you pretty well, and I notice things from time to time, believe it or not. If it’s something you might be able to work out, Livvy girl, you might want to try that out.” Sid leaned in to kiss Liv’s forehead. “I’d love my only grandchild to be cared for like that Sam seems to care for you.”

Then Sid turned and headed for his own bed, leaving Liv in the doorway of her room feeling slightly distraught. She flopped down onto her tiny single bed as Vic undid the blankets Sid had laid out for her the way she actually wanted them.

“Long day,” Vic mumbled. It wasn’t a question. It was just the truth.

Liv made a noise of agreement muffled by her pillow then snapped the lamp off on her bedside table. “I’m sorry I jumped on you before,” she said.

“It’s okay,” Vic replied. “I’m sorry, too.”

“I’m really glad you came with me.”

“Me too. Believe it or not.”

They both chuckled, then settled into the quiet.

She and Vic had always been so different and weren’t always the best at communicating, but she knew all Vic said in the kitchen came from a place of concern. Victoria was trying to look out for her.  At the core of her concerns, Liv couldn’t deny she made some fair points, which is possibly why she bit back so abruptly.

Then there was what Sid had just said in the hallway that gave her the feeling that probably bubbled up into that expression from dinner that had made Vic so uncomfortable. The one that made her picture Liv sporting a baby bump with a toddler on a leash.

The idea amused Liv because settling down had never been part of the deal with her and Sam. It had never crossed her mind even in their happiest times. But being loved and cared for by a gentle man who would cross the country to protect her yet could still make her grandfather smile did seem to incite the same kind of dreamy gaze of a lady in a more traditional lifestyle. Was that as close as people in this life could get to the conventional? A few days before she was afraid to let herself think about things like this, and Victoria was right that this was a freak circumstance. She shouldn’t let it cloud her judgment. But then, Sam had only shown up because of how he felt about her. Shouldn’t that count for something?

The image of an empty space beside her in an old bed in Rufus’ cabin jumped into her head at that exact moment. The familiar ping of anxiety bit at her, reminding her that nothing was clear-cut. Not ever.

Liv rolled over in frustration. She was tired of ping-ponging racing thoughts around in her head. If she could have ignored everything else --what was the right thing to do, what was the smart thing to do, what was the healthiest thing to do, what would protect herself, etc, etc-- and just focused on what would make her happy, she probably would have gotten out bed and curled up next to Sam on the sofa that second.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Sam lingered the next day much longer than Liv expected. It gave him and Victoria more time to be around each other and after a few cups of coffee and a lunch on the back porch, they were actually speaking directly to one another. On purpose. Liv felt like she was in a pleasant haze, being in Dalhart that morning, and she wondered how long it could last. She had had a restless night’s sleep with worry and confusion tumbling around in her head but hanging out like this melted the bad stuff away and seemed to only leave possibilities. Maybe the empty space was an image that didn’t have to haunt her the way it did. With Sam in her sight she felt more optimistic, bolder. Maybe it was something she could work through if he was by her side.

A loud, familiar rumbling interrupted these nice thoughts. Liv and Sam’s wide eyes met at the sound and they jumped to their feet.

“Are we receiving another guest, today?” Sid asked as Mable started barking.

“Seriously?” Vic erupted. “That’s not--?” She pointed towards the front, brows cocked in disapproval.

Sam started off around the house towards the driveway.

“It is,” Liv confirmed, then took off to follow Sam.

“You got a shotgun, Sid?” Victoria was only half joking.

“Sure, hon. Got a few.”

Dean parked next to the beat-up truck Sam had brought and slammed the Impala door shut behind him as Sam approached, an ironic grin plastered across his face. They had already made a few sharp exchanges by the time Liv snuck up behind them. She couldn’t bring herself to completely step in, she felt out of place so she kept her distance.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Sam growled.

“If you hadn’t hung up on me, I wouldn’t have to be,” Dean shot back.

“I heard everything I needed to hear--”

“No you heard what you wanted to hear!” Dean spat. “You couldn’t handle that the truth is Benny is innocent. You used to care about the truth, Sammy.”

“This isn’t just about Benny, Dean.”

Dean looked confused. “O is fine! Look at her, she’s standing right there.” At the sound of Dean’s nickname for her, Liv was suddenly right at Sam’s side, staring daggers straight into Dean.

“That’s not the point!” Sam roared.

“You were going to kill Benny! What was I supposed to do?”

“Don’t pretend like this was an act of desperation!” Liv shouted.

“Well hello to you, too, sweetheart--”

“The only way you could have pulled this off is if you changed my number long before you guys were ever in that situation. This was completely premeditated!”

“Back off, Princess!” Dean commanded. “This is between me and my brother.”

“No it isn’t!” She was getting closer and closer to Dean. “It stopped being between just the two of you when you used me to fuck with Sam.”

“Back. _Off.”_ Dean repeated through gritted teeth.

“I’m not one of your guns.” Sam tugged her away from Dean. She stepped back and fell in line next to him. “I’m not a knife, or any other blunt object you can wield then set nicely back in its place. And I am not collateral.”

“You two have been dying to see each other but you’re both too stupid to just do it! I did you guys a fucking favor.”

“Well, I guess if Sid had ended up having a heart attack, at least it would have been worth it,” said Sam.

“Worst parent-trapping ever,” Liv added.

“You didn’t have to call Sid,” Dean barked. “Bottom line, you wouldn’t listen and I knew you wouldn’t. So I did what I had to do.”

“That’s what we are now, then?” Sam asked. “To save a vampire’s life, you make me believe the woman I love may be dead?”

There was pregnant pause on everybody’s part after that, even Sam’s. It was also then that the three became aware that Victoria and Sid were standing a few feet away on the front porch steps, listening to every word of the exchange. And after the second settled in, they moved right along.

“What do you want from me?” Dean demanded. “You want to hear ‘I’m sorry,’ you want to hear ‘I was wrong’?”

“For starters?” Liv jabbed.

“Fine, I was wrong! But none of this would have happened if you, Sammy, had just listened to me and trusted me.” He made a twirly hand gesture to indicate everything around him. “All of this could have been avoided.”

“Worst apology ever!” Liv jabbed, again.

“You have lied about Benny ever since you got topside, but suddenly I’m supposed to take your word when Benny is at the center of the case we’re working?”

“I hid him because I knew you wouldn’t understand. I was telling the truth in Carencro!” Dean insisted.

“Okay fine, Dean. How’s this for truth.” Sam took a step towards his brother, his face unreadable. His voice grew low and dangerous. “You have seen first hand what it’s like to lose every person you love. You’ve seen it happen to me, too. But that didn’t stop you from making me think what happened to Jessica and ...pretty much every other person I’ve ever cared about in my life might have happened to Liv, too.”

Dean’s face defaulted to that stony expression Liv always had a hard time with. She wasn’t ever sure if it meant guilt or hubris and so often Dean wore both at the same time.

“So what the hell do we do now?” Dean asked, gruffly.

Sam shrugged and shook his head.

Dean looked into Liv’s face for a second, scanned the porch behind her, then ducked his eyes completely. “I’m going up the street to a motel,” he declared. “You can follow or not. But whatever comes next, I’m through with it being in front of an audience.” With that, he turned back to the Impala. Sam didn’t make a move to follow or to stop him. “You know which one I mean?”

Sam gave a nod then Dean was gone, a trail of dust floating behind the Impala as it retreated up the dirt road.

“Sam,” Liv began, squaring up in front of him. “You don’t have to go.” It sounded a little like pleading. “Not after what he did.”

Sam looked sadly down at her. He was grateful she was always in his corner, even after everything, but she had to know that wasn’t true.

“You didn’t abandon him before,” she continued, “and it’s not abandoning him now if you don’t follow him.” _And what comes next?_ she thought. _What’s the alternative? Stay here another day? Another week? Or just come with me instead, altogether?_ These thoughts freaked her out but she pushed past the anxiety building in her chest.

What had the last year proved of Sam? He’d done what he thought Dean wanted by leaving Dean gone even though it destroyed him. Then Sam did what he had to to survive taking that hit, for Dean’s sake, so Dean could rest in peace. But after he ran and fell off the grid, he wasn’t afraid to try to live again, even after the worst loss of his life. He was braver than Liv. He took a chance at happiness with Amelia, outside of anything he had ever known, even after being destroyed, even if it couldn’t last forever.

He was still brave enough to try again. Could Liv be?

The two of them could work through their shit and they could walk through the healing process together. She had thought that having time and space away would help her clear her head, but it had mostly filled it with a terrible cycle of ‘what ifs’ and doubts. What if she stopped thinking and just ‘did’ like she had in Chicago, but instead of running at the first sight of trouble, maybe she could be ready for it. She could face it head on, knowing it could be overcome. Had space taught her that? Was that enough to start with?

But before she could verbalize any of these feelings, Sam replied. “No, I’ve overstayed my welcome.” He bucked his head a bit toward the house behind him, where Vic and Sid still stood. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but I _am_ sorry I’ve caused so much trouble for you girls and Sid. It’s embarrassing, especially since you told me you needed time and me and Dean have very spectacularly infringed on that.”

Liv open her mouth to correct him, but what Sam said next stopped her dead.

“And I think that was a good idea, Liv. I think I need time, too. You were right, we both need to clear our heads. Rushing into anything seems...reckless.”

Liv gave a feeble nod. _Reckless and not brave._

“So, I’m going to go,” he concluded. He pulled her into a loose hug. “Thank you for being so cool about all of this.”

She gave another feeble nod against his shoulder.

“We’ll get there,” he muttered, then pulled away. “I better go thank Sid.” Liv watched him climb up the front steps with little effort and take her grandfather’s hand in a firm handshake. Sid handed him the overnight bag Sam had left fully packed in the living room and Victoria nodded a goodbye to him before he returned to Liv’s side. She wondered if she was properly hiding how badly she didn’t want him to go. She hoped not. Even so, his faltering gaze only held him in front of her for a moment before he was able to arrange his mouth into a smile before passing by to head toward the truck.

“I’ll call you,” Liv said.

Sam glanced back through the hair a breeze was blowing across his cheek. “I’ll be waiting.” Then he was chasing the already settling dust from the trail the Impala had made. Liv watched until it started settling again, an emptiness in the pit of her stomach. As tears started making their way out of the sides of her eyes she felt an arm being draped around her. Without hesitation, she rested her head on Victoria’s shoulder.

 

 


End file.
